


Anywhere But Home

by Diglossia



Category: Panik
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-22
Updated: 2010-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-06 13:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diglossia/pseuds/Diglossia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank's secret isn't so secret anymore. Warning: self-destructive behaviors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

Frank pulled away from the tree, leaning on it as he stood up. He steadied himself against the strong bark before wiping his hand on the grass and scraping his tongue with his teeth. He rolled his pants back down from where they were bunched above his knee, grabbed his bag, and set off for home.

He was a long way out and it would take almost a half hour to get back home if he didn't go anywhere but straight. But that wasn't what Frank wanted to do. He didn't want to go back to the bandhouse or to his room. He wanted to go…somewhere. Somewhere else, far away or even close by, it didn't matter so long as he didn't have to see the look on Linke and Juri's faces. Or David's, either, now that the guitarist had started to realize the things going on around him.

Timo didn't know yet but soon David would tell him. David told Timo everything. Frank couldn't see that conversation going well. Timo would likely confront him, yelling the same words Linke already had and Juri, too. It would be messy. Timo would want to do something about it, especially once he started connecting the dots, once he started understanding all the little clues that Frank hadn't been able to hide.

The strap of his bag finally cutting too deeply into his shoulder, Frank sighed and took his phone out. With a shaky, barely controlled movement, he settled on the sidewalk, his feet stuck out into the bicycle lane. He took out his phone and pressed the keys. His phone rang once before it was picked up.

"Juri?" Frank asked quietly. "Can you come pick me up?"

ØØØ

Frank could not look at Juri as they drove through the dark streets. It was nearly midnight and the sidewalks were almost empty, only a few drunken teenagers stumbling their way to the nearest disco. Thursday was never a popular time to go out.

"You want to tell me where you've been?" Juri asked, his lips thinned and the anger more than obvious in his voice.

"No," Frank said simply. Juri shook his head, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

"Fine. But you're explaining to Jan why I took his keys to come get you."

"Please don't make me talk to him," Frank said, looking at Juri for the first time. Juri glanced at him from the corner of his eye and sighed.

"These are your choices that you're making, Frank," Juri said.

Frank could have sworn Juri's next word was "idiot" but, try as he might, he couldn't be sure. It did not matter; Juri was angry, had been angry for a long time, and a few moments alone together weren't going to fix that.


	2. Part 2

Frank watched Jan playing with the terrier, the little dog bouncing up and down, trying to get the treat Jan held in his hand just out of the happy dog's reach. Timo's camera was rolling as it always was somewhere behind them so Frank didn't notice the way Timo focused it on him for several long seconds.

Juri flicked his eyes from Frank's shoulders down his spine, his face studiously blank as he took in the far too prominent bones on the singer's back. Frank, focused on the dog, and, in a way he thought was less obvious, Jan, did not see Juri and Timo exchange a pained look. Then Frank was smiling unconsciously at Jan and David grinning and the terrier pouncing on Jan's hand and the two musicians looked away. Timo's camera focused back on Jan and the dog, catching only a second or two of Frank smiling.

ØØØ

Timo checked the times on the recording, deciding when to cut the tape later. He didn't have anything post-worthy for the day. The dog would do since Timo would be saving the first part of the film for other purposes, documentation of all the weight Frank had lost. The few photos he had managed to collect of the singer within the last month weren't enough to prove anything since Frank had been wearing heavy jackets and long pants but this little bit with Juri in the background to compare Frank to- and if Frank looked skinny against _Juri_, who spent almost all the time he wasn't practicing exercising, there was a serious problem- this would be enough to confront Frank. There was no way Frank could deny the sharpness of his shoulder blades or the bones poking out of his wrists, not with this clip.

It was the first time Timo had gotten Frank on video in months. It hadn't been intentional on Timo's part, leaving Frank out. Frank had shied away from the camera in recent months, deliberately staying just out of the way and murmuring to Timo asking, could Timo please not film him?

Pictures were turning out consistently bad when the singer was included in them. Frank just stood there, not doing anything until the photographer prompted him. He just looked…depressed. For now, he was smiling, looking somewhat alive and happy but that wasn't why Timo was filming him.

The depression Timo had noticed in photos had been accompanied by worrying things in real life. Frank had become quiet, spending more and more time alone, sometimes locked in his room, sometimes disappearing at random hours of the night and coming back when everyone else was asleep. It was difficult to talk to Frank. He wouldn't respond when someone said hi to him or when one of the guys asked him a question.

He still cooked and cooked well so Timo had taken longer to notice Frank's lackluster personality change. Cooking had always made Frank happy. He took joy in producing good food and in trying new recipes out on his bandmates. There was a glow about him when he got a particularly difficult dish right and when he got compliments on his food. That glow was gone now. Food was made and set out but Frank didn't care if his friends liked it, didn't care if they even ate it, really, since he tended to eat his food and leave the table or simply not appear at mealtimes at all, leaving the food to be consumed in his absence.

Then Linke and Juri had approached Timo asking him to find evidence to back up their suspicions. What suspicions? Timo had asked.

He hadn't wanted to know what he learned that day, hadn't wanted to know that kind of thing existed or affected guys. Timo had wanted, still wanted, Linke and Juri to be wrong. But they weren't from what Timo had seen on his own and from what David had whispered to him at night when they were alone.

Now Timo had the first clear cut evidence to back up those suspicions.

And he would give anything to delete it.

ØØØ

Linke walked into David's room days later and froze at the sight of Timo and David crouched half naked around Timo's laptop, both only wearing boxers, Timo's slung so low around his hips and almost fully covered by David's comforter that at first Linke had seriously thought he'd walked in on something he couldn't unsee. It wasn't that he hadn't seen either of them partially undressed, hell, everyone knew how white David's ass was, it was just that he hadn't seen them under David's blankets wearing so few clothes _together_. Obvious as anything, those two were.

Shaking the uncomfortable thoughts from his brain, Linke cleared his throat.

"You two find anything we can use?" he asked. 

David shushed him and waved him over. Linke moved beside David, tilting the screen so he could see and making Timo scowl. Linke winced when he saw the first picture, a frontal shot Timo had gotten of Frank. Even under his long-sleeved shirt, it was obvious Frank had become almost skeletal. The facial hair he had been sporting lately was hiding how thin his face had become but only just when placed next to some of the pictures from China.

"You think this will work?" David asked, looking straight at Linke. He didn't need to ask Timo, already knowing what the rapper had to say. (Jan had hit the nail on the head when he'd told Linke one practice during the first Panik that Timo didn't have thoughts David didn't agree with and that he was sufficiently whipped not to voice any he might think up.)

Timo played his next clip and Linke felt his throat clench as he saw Frank talking to Jan. Frank had been healthy then, whole, ridiculously happy like he used to be. There was the energy, there were the smiles, there was the happiness in his voice that had been gone for so long. 

The video ended, the camera flashing quickly over a familiar Panik-inscribed wall. So it had been taken in January, during the Jeder shoot. 

"Play it again," he said when the video ended.

Linke studied Frank, wondering what had caught his attention about those thirty-eight seconds. Something was off, something hitting Linke in the back of his skull, telling him there was something he wasn't quite understanding.

"Again," he ordered, brushing off Timo's grumble. David's eyes sharpened and he turned to the screen, too.

"What?" David asked when the video had run its course.

"It's Jan," Linke murmured and scrubbed his hand through the back of his hair. David frowned and Timo looked suddenly angry.

"When's the last time Frank talked to Jan?" he asked louder, turning to the pair.

"Why?" Timo all but spat. "What's Jan got to do with this?"

"Don't you see it?" Linke leaned forward and clicked the play button on the screen. "Watch the way Frank looks at Jan. Look at what he's doing."

"He took Jan's coffee, so what?" Timo's anger was thickening, becoming dark and somewhat wild, proof positive to Linke that he was seeing exactly what Linke saw.

"You think something happened between them?" David asked thoughtfully.

"Yeah, I do," Linke said, his tone definite. 

"Frank doesn't share food," David said, snuggling up to Timo in a way that spoke of David's discomfort and need for proximity. "He's too polite. He would have got his own if he'd wanted coffee. He wanted Jan's."

Linke worried his lip and nodded.

"Jan didn't cause this," Timo stated, warning Linke not to challenge him. "There's no fucking way this is Jan's fault."

"No," Linke agreed. "He's not the cause but he could be the catalyst. Jan could have tipped the scales. By accident," Linke added when Timo gave him a murderous glare. "Timo, you saw the same thing I saw. That video isn't reality anymore and it's not all that hard to see what the biggest difference is."

"Fuck you," Timo snarled. He slammed his laptop closed and shoved it down the bed away from him. "Jan wouldn't pull that kind of shit. He's not like you. He _wouldn't_ do that."

"Yeah? What do you think happened, man?" Linke snapped right back. "How do you explain this? Do you honestly think Jan and Frank are buddy-buddy all of a sudden? It's September, Timo, and outside of that video I can't remember the last time I saw the two of them together outside of photo shoots or the stage. That video was taken in January and it's September. A lot can happen in eight months."

"This _isn't_ Jan's fault!"

"Then whose is it?"

"Stop it!" David screamed, physically putting himself between Timo and Linke. He had his hands on both men's chests and he looked from one to the other with a look that could freeze the hairs off their balls. "Stop acting like five-year-olds. Fighting won't fix anything. Linke, you should probably go. This is all just speculation and, even if it's all true, Timo doesn't have the answers. We'll stick to the plan: gather enough evidence that we can confront Frank and then we can start trying to find out why."

"I have enough evidence, David," Linke said coolly. "It's right there if you just look. Ask Juri, he knows what I'm talking about."

"I'm sure he does. But, Chris, do you really think this will work?" David asked quietly. "We might make things worse if we confront him."

"I don't know," Linke said, glancing at Timo's laptop, the memory of Frank and Jan burned into his brain, demanding that he go back to his computer and watch again. If Timo was right and Linke was reading wrong, and Jan found out, it would be hell. "But we can try."

ØØØ

He was walking alone again, through the dark streets late at night. It was not so far to get home this time. He hadn't gone too far, less than half a mile, less than ten minutes walking if he walked fast. He knew this path, knew exactly how far it was to _there_, that place of relief.

The supermarket lights were bright as he approached the Rewe. A sign posted in one of the floor-to-ceiling windows boasted proudly it's new 24-hour status. Frank smiled grimly and walked up to the automatic doors.

Inside, it was warm, colorful, and brightly-lit, filled with a wealth of food, spices, and sweets. It was of no consequence to Frank what the supermarket contained, at least not in terms of goods, not today, not now. What he sought was at the back of the store, hidden by a small side hallway.

Frank pushed the white door open, turning the lock behind himself and letting out a sigh of relief.

Twenty minutes later, he emerged.

ØØØ

The next day he didn't have as much luck.

It was Linke's fault that Frank couldn't get out of the house at his usual time. It was Linke's fault that Frank had to wait so long to go for his 'walk'. It was Linke's fault that Frank returned so late. It was Linke's fault he got caught.

"Why do you even bother to eat?" Linke hissed when Frank filled his plate with the food he himself had made. Linke watched him after that, all through dinner, his chin tilted upwards and his eyes cold, blue glass as he watched Frank. The others looked from one friend to the other but Frank had kept his eyes to himself, chewing slowly, his face on fire, pretending to ignore Linke, hoping that it was only Linke's eyes on him. 

He had to wait until just after midnight to leave. Frank left the front door unlocked and slightly open as he slipped out. The night air was calming, or would have been had Frank not been so trapped inside his own head, his only thoughts on his goal.

The thought of Linke made Frank rush himself so as to get home more quickly. Less than five minutes and Linke wouldn't have definite proof. Frank could say he was taking the trash out, that he had left the house later than Linke had thought, that he hadn't been gone nearly long enough.

It didn't happen like that. Frank didn't make it home in five minutes or even ten. He barely made it home at all.

Without warning, the sidewalk rolled, the cement turning into an ocean of roiling waves. Frank crashed into it, his body burning up hotter than a bonfire, sweat rolling down his temples and soaking his shirt. The waves moved over him and he saw darkness and felt that he was drowning. There wasn't enough air, the oxygen hidden in the water denied him when he most needed it.

ØØØ

He came back to himself sometime after, the stinging in his palms and the welcome relief of air allowing him to wake back up. Frank sat up shakily. His arms were covered in goosebumps and he was cold, freezing, in fact. He shivered and looked at his hands, at the rough scrapes and dirt there where whole skin and traces of sick had been before.

The kitchen was closer than the downstairs bathroom and less obvious besides. He could make it there, clean off, and get to his room without anyone noticing.

Frank made his way to the sink. He turned the tap, letting the cool water flow over his hands before pouring soap on them. He scrubbed his hands and rinsed his mouth out. Frank moved to turn the tap off when the weakness overcame him. Frank's legs shook and the kitchen swam before his eyes, the warning too late as his knees buckled and he collapsed.

Frank came to on the kitchen floor. He was surprised to hear the water still running, flowing over the bottom of the metal sink and down the drain.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Linke was watching him, the light from his laptop reflecting back on his face eerily. Frank wondered if he had been there the whole time. It didn't matter; Linke was never fooled by his lies or excuses.

"When are you going to realize that you've fucked yourself up too much?" he asked Frank as the singer stood up unsteadily, grasping the counter for support. Frank ignored Linke's words and turned the tap, the water slowing to a thin trickle before stopping. There were still bubbles around the drain. Frank figured he could not have been out long, otherwise the water would have washed all the soap away.

Frank breathed in shakily. His heart was beating wildly, making him feel even weaker as the empty pain in his stomach became crippling. Frank flinched, feeling woozy.

His arms gave out, his body refusing to help itself, and Frank fell against the sink. His whole body trembled, the muscles in his legs giving out again. He slumped to the floor, hitting the wooden cabinets with a loud slam on his way down. Frank felt sick, an empty, awful, dizzy feeling completely different from that other sickness he was so familiar with. He had never felt so out of control, so weak. He'd been close many times but never this, never losing control of his muscles so that he couldn't even make a fist or move at all without slipping. He shook and clutched the rug as the world spun, just conscious enough to hear Linke yelling for Juri and to feel the bassist kneel beside him, slinging Frank's arm around his shoulders and trying to get him to sit up.

Then Juri's arms closed around him, Juri holding Frank under his knees and around his back, and he was lifted up and carried slowly out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and to his room.


	3. Part 3

Juri laid Frank on his bed, the singer moving like a ragdoll, no grace or finesse or even control to his movements. He was breathing, that much Juri could tell, shallowly but it was breathing. Linke shifted over to pull Frank's jacket off and the cuff around his wrist. Juri hadn't realized the cuff had been covering a bruise.

"It just keeps getting more and more fun," Linke muttered as he peeled Frank's shirt back, Juri not really sure what Linke was doing or why. He watched as Linke spread his hands out, feeling along Frank's bony chest up to his neck. "His heart's still beating strongly. I don't think-" Linke paused, looking back at Juri. "We could call a doctor."

"You don't want to," Juri said. They'd discussed this already many times. Forcing Frank into treatment wouldn't help. It might in the short term but in the long run, if Frank didn't want help no amount of doctors could fix him.

"We'll wait till he wakes up," Linke said. He passed his hand over Frank's face, his own twisted with a sadness he would never let Frank see. Linke breathed out slowly and leaned over, kissing Frank's hollow cheek before moving back, meeting Juri's eye in a silent command to keep quiet about what he had just done. "Get him up, make him take a shower, and then we'll talk."

They left Frank's room, Juri flicking the light off before closing the door.

ØØØ

When Frank woke up sometime before daybreak, he was alone and in his bed. He tried to fall back asleep but only ended up staring at the ceiling, the familiar, hateful thoughts filling his head. Lately, he could not go an hour without them reappearing to torture him and force him to think about all the things he didn't want to think about, like his worthlessness, his lonelineness, or his ugly body.

There was no one to talk to, no one who cared anymore. His fans had given up on him, writing Myspace messages and tweets asking, no, _begging_ him to shave, to cut his hair, to wear the clothes he used to wear, the clothes that now barely fit, that were falling off. Everything now was about Jan and David, how Jan was turning so hot, how Jan was on everyone's minds; girls asking if he was dating anyone and if not, would he want them? There was no way Jan would want him now, no way anyone would, now that Frank had started changing.

No one cared…and it hurt. It cut Frank like a dull, serrated knife, poorly handled strokes that dug into his heart and chest, pulling the barely healing wounds open again and again, not fast or sharp enough to ignore. 

He wanted to disappear, to go somewhere else, become someone else. His dreams were falling apart in his hands, his friends were leaving him, his love wasn't even noticing him. It was so much easier away from Timo's camera, away from the fans, to just perform on stage until the show was done and then go off to be alone again without anyone noticing.

Frank didn't want to die, he didn't want to hurt himself so badly that he would go to sleep one night and never wake up. He just wanted…freedom, the security of knowing that he could not matter somewhere else, somewhere where he didn't have to see the people he let down every day, somewhere where Juri and Linke and David didn't look at him with eyes that saw too much and judged him, somewhere where Jan wasn't because then Jan could ignore him and it wouldn't hurt so much.

If only he were thinner, if only he were more talented, if only he had the energy that Timo and David, and Jan had, if only he could be better looking, if only he could stop the pain, everything would be better. If only he didn't have to look and see and know what everyone was thinking about him, how he was a failure, how he didn't have any talent, how he wasn't even important to the band anymore, how he was just dragging everybody down and making their lives that much worse, things would be better.

ØØØ

There was no knocking at the door when Linke and Juri returned to Frank's room the next morning, just a slow turn of the knob that Frank turned his head towards and then his friends- no, his _bandmates_\- slipping inside.

"You idiot!" Linke hissed. "What the hell were you _thinking_ last night? Who do you think would have found you lying on the kitchen floor, passed out like an inebriate if I hadn't been up? Timo and Jan didn't even get back till two o'clock, not to mention David! Why the fuck did you have to pick last night, you-"

"Chris," Juri said firmly. "Shut up."

Linke's nostrils flared but he swallowed his words, though his anger still showed vividly on his face.

"Do you want to see a professional?" Juri asked Frank slowly, enunciating his words carefully as though Frank had damaged his brain as badly as the rest of his body. "There's medicine they can prescribe and there're support groups for this kind of thing. Frank, we can't just let this be."

Frank kept his gaze on the wall. He heard Juri's every word but he couldn't, _wouldn't_, think about this now. Not after they had seen him like that. He wasn't in control of the situation, he couldn't make his own decisions about things, and it rankled.

"Please, just leave me alone," he said. "I want to be alone right now."

ØØØ

"Jan, come over here," Linke said, gesturing at the spot next to him by his computer.

"What's up?" Jan asked, all chipper and bouncy. He hadn't had to drink a quarter of what Timo had at the club and he was up and awake, quite pleased with himself actually for beating the rapper at his own drinking game. It had been simple enough, charm the nearest girl into thinking he was an Italian, an American, or a Mexican. It didn't really matter what so long as the girl bought it. David had been thoroughly unamused after the first hour or so and Timo's not so sober hands started creeping over the girls they were playing with. Timo adored David, he really did, it was just that his control went out the window once he got past tipsy. If David simply let Timo give him a lap dance and some face time, Timo had said, he wouldn't have any reason to be touching other people. Jan was still surprised David hadn't punched Timo in the face but, hey, it wasn't his boyfriend that was acting like a fool.

Jan plopped down next to Linke, barely registering when the bassist lifted his legs onto his lap. 

"Is something up between you and Frank?" Linke asked as he began undoing Jan's shoelaces and pulling the shoes off.

Jan shrugged, wondering what that question had to do with anything.

"Not really, I guess."

"Are you sure?" Timo asked, chiming in. A chill ran down Jan's spine. Linke and Timo didn't tend to ask the same questions at the same time. 

"Yeah, I'm sure," Jan said, rolling his eyes at Timo. "Why're you asking about him all of a sudden? Is he mad at me or something?"

Linke and Timo shared a look and Jan's skin really began to crawl. He sat up. Since when did they share stuff? This was getting creepier by the second. Linke didn't look at people like that without good reason.

"He might be," Linke said.

"We think he is," Timo hedged, sharing another of those freaky looks with Linke.

"Jan-" Linke leaned forward, putting his hand on Jan's upper leg and looking at him with a strange look in his eyes. "-have you not noticed what's happened to Frank lately?"

Holy mother of fucking God, was Jan freaked out. Never in his life had he wanted to run away from someone so fast or yank their hand off of him like he did right now with Linke.

He shook his head wordlessly.

"Frank hasn't been eating much and he's lost a lot of weight," Linke continued. "More than normal stress can account for."

"He's been working out," Jan said uneasily.

"He's been leaving the house at odd hours and spending a lot of time alone."

"Maybe he's got a new girlfriend and he's on the phone with her," Jan tried. Linke scoffed.

"Something is wrong with Frank, Jan, and we think it has something to do with you," he said.

"We're not trying to blame you-" That was Juri. When the hell had Juri come in? "-we simply want to know what happened."

"Did you get in a fight?" Timo added. "Did you say something to Frank, something you didn't mean?"

Jan looked from Juri to Timo to Linke and his anger turned cold and deadly. He pulled his legs away from Linke's lap and stood up, needing to feel tall with so many people turning on him.

"I didn't do anything," he said, breathing hard. "You guys could've asked me and I would've told you that but, no, I have to be the bad guy. Yes, alright? Yes, I know Frank's been sick as shit, yes, I know he's been keeping to himself, and, yes, I fucking know that he and I haven't been talking but this- you couldn't ask me before? What the fuck happened?" Jan snapped, turning to glare at Linke and Timo. They had started this. "Why the fuck are you asking me these questions? What happened to Frank?"

Timo looked down into his hands and said nothing.

"Chris?" Jan asked coolly.

"He collapsed," Linke said simply, looking Jan in the eye baldly. "While you were out last night, he came back here. I was in the kitchen on my laptop and he didn't see me. He was shaking badly and leaning on the sink- and he just collapsed. I couldn't move. I didn't know what to do but before I could get up, he woke back up. I said one word to him and then he fell and hit his head, and he didn't wake up. Juri carried him upstairs. Now, my question to you is this: what did you say to him? What did you do to make him act like this?"

"I didn't fucking do anything," Jan snapped, wanting so badly to hit Linke in the face. "You know as much as I do so get the fuck off my case."

"Lying isn't going to help anything."

"I'm not lying!" Jan screamed, lunging at Linke. Before he could reach him, Juri grabbed Jan from behind and pulled him away while Timo held Linke back, incredibly.

"Chris, leave," Juri said. "Go stand in the hallway before you kill each other." Linke threw Jan a dirty look. He yanked Timo's arms off him and walked out, leaving Jan with Juri and Timo.

"Let me go," Jan growled. He tried to pull the same trick Linke had and pull away from Juri but it didn't work. Juri sighed.

"If you're just going to go start a fight with Linke, no," he told Jan. "He means well, he loses his head when he gets angry."

"I'm not going to fight with Linke," Jan snapped. "I'm going to go see Frank."

Timo's eyes widened.

"Jan, that's not a good ide-"

"Shut the fuck up, Timo. I have every right to see him, especially if you think I'm responsible for this shit," Jan said. Timo looked affronted. Jan was too pissed to care. Juri let him go and Jan massaged his arms where Juri had grabbed him too tightly.

"Linke…when he gets angry-" Juri started.

"I know him better than you do," Jan said, cutting Juri off.

Juri nodded and sighed.

"Here," he said, handing Jan some folded up papers that he pulled from his back pocket. "Read this, okay? Before you make things worse."

Jan moved to protest but Juri turned away and went over to where Linke was standing, stroking the fuming bassist's back while he glared at everyone and everything. 

Jan unfolded the first sheet, scanned the first few lines, and felt sick.


	4. Part 4

Jan didn't go to see Frank directly. It would be awkward to stamp off to the singer's room with all his friends watching and most likely listening to everything he would say to Frank.

He locked himself in the upstairs bathroom with the pamphlets Juri had handed him and waited until everyone had dispersed, then headed back to his room to read and think.

He'd wanted to punch Linke in the face earlier for saying what he had. Only the fact that Timo- fucking Timo, of all people- had held Linke back had kept Jan from doing anything more. It was complete garbage that Jan had done anything to Frank. They hadn't even talked in- hell, when was the last time they had talked? It certainly hadn't been in August or July, or June, for that matter. Frank had started avoiding him before May, so it couldn't have been then, either. April? April sounded maybe right.

When, after an hour, Jan heard David begin to play the piano downstairs and feet shuffling near the living room, Jan decided it was then or never. The guys were not about to leave the house without setting someone to watch Frank and Jan wasn't trying to have a chaperoned conversation with his friend, especially if Linke turned out to be the one doing the chaperoning. Damnit, he wanted to talk to Frank alone.

Jan stepped out of his room and began walking down the hallway. He skimmed his hand against the wall, slowing his pace and giving it a feel of purpose, like he actually had some idea what he was supposed to say or do.

He wasn't expecting to run into Linke. The bassist was sitting in the hallway, his arms crossed over his knees, his face a mask of angry determination. Juri lounged against the wall, standing across from him. They both went silent as he approached. Jan knew it was because they had been talking about him. The look the two shared as he came closer only solidified that knowledge. If they hadn't been blocking his way, Jan would have glared daggers and walked past him but there wasn't an inch of space between Juri's and Linke's legs and he couldn't get through without tripping.

Linke sneered.

"So you decided you were actually going to keep your promise, did you?" Juri glanced at Linke but said nothing. It stung Jan deeply that Juri had chosen sides like that.

"You were keeping this from me. Why?" Jan asked, ignoring Linke's question. Might as well get what answers he could now before he talked to Frank. Besides, he honestly wanted to know why he, the one who had apparently caused all of this, was the last to know that Frank was so incredibly ill.

His forwardness seemed to hit something inside the both of them. Juri grimaced as Linke scratched at the tattoos on his left forearm uncomfortably.

"He's sick, Jan! He didn't need this on top of everything else. You can't honestly think it would be good for Frank to start up a relationship in as bad shape as he is."

Jan froze at Linke's words.

"Relationship? Why would Frank wa-" Jan's eyes closed as understanding hit him. "Wait-he's sick because he thinks I don't give a damn about him?!" he yelped. "Why the fuck would you let him think I don't care about him?!"

Juri and Linke shared a glance.

"Are you saying you didn't turn Frank down?" Juri asked.

"Of course not! I didn't even know he…you know, thought like that."

Linke burst out laughing, covering his mouth with his hands as he laughed so hard tears ran down his cheeks. Juri's lips twitched upwards and then he, too, seemed to be smothering a grin. Jan kicked Linke's foot, glowering at the bassist as he continued to laugh like a hyena.

"This isn't funny!" Jan exclaimed, crossing his arms and kicking Linke again. The bassist just snorted and wiped at the corners of his eyes.

"I- you-" Linke wheezed. "Did you really not- oh, God-"

"What?!" Jan snapped, ready to punch the idiot in the arm. He couldn't see a damn thing funny about the situation.

"Ignore him," Juri said calmly. "He's a bit hysterical from all this." Juri ran his bottom lip through his teeth before addressing Jan. "Do you care about Frank?"

"Ye- I, I don't know. I guess I do but I haven't really thought about it…that much."

Juri nodded.

"I think, then, that it might be a good thing if you talk to Frank."

Juri moved out of the way to let Jan by. Jan walked past him and turned the knob of Frank's door with the odd feeling that he had passed some sort of test lingering in his mind.

ØØØ

There was no sound in Frank's room, no heavy breathing or movement at all to indicate that Frank was even inside. Jan paused just inside the doorway, his eyes scanning over the disorganized chaos of Frank's room.

His head hurt from so many conflicting thoughts. He had spent almost an hour perfecting a speech to give Frank but now, with the new information that Linke and Juri had only just given him, Jan didn't know where to start or even if he could. The walls he'd put around himself, the bouncy façade he put up around the other guys so they wouldn't think to ask about his interests outside music or dancing or beer, they were all crashing down around him as he leaned back against Frank's wall.

Was this all his fault? Jan asked himself. Was he the cause of all of this? Was he why Frank was so sick because he'd been just too damn selfish to notice his friend slowly falling apart beside him all this time? Because he hadn't seen all the little signs that everyone else had, because he hadn't been able to get over the crippling fear that Frank would turn away from him more than he already had if he tried to reclaim their friendship? 

For such a long time, Jan had felt Frank pulling away from him. Their friendship was cobwebbed now, dusty from too little care, too few days spent together, too few times spent laughing or just enjoying each other's company. Jan had thought it was normal, in an agonizingly painful, unstoppable way. Some friendships became deeper with time, some faded away. There didn't have to be a reason why Frank wanted to pull away from him.

Jan remembered so many times when Frank had something better to do or when Frank didn't want to do something together.

ØØØ

_He was curled up on the couch with Juri, the drummer absently petting Jan's hair. It was comfortable. Juri was warm, the beer was good, and the movie was one of Jan's favorites. Juri eventually fell asleep, one arm slung loosely around Jan's shoulders while Jan watched the movie enrapt. Frank walked past and paused, looking at Jan with surprise._

_"Yeah, we're still up," Jan said, grinning. Frank looked from him to Juri and excused himself with a weird expression on his face. Jan felt his face burn, certain that he had misread Frank somehow and had made a fool of himself._

ØØØ

_"Hey, Frank, you want to play Guitar Hero?" Jan asked excitedly, almost tugging on the singer's sleeve as he waited impatiently for a 'yes'._

_"Oh…no. Thank you, though, I just don't want to play," Frank said, turning back to his computer screen. He didn't see the crushed look on Jan's face, didn't even sense the disappointment radiating from his friend._

ØØØ

"Um…Jan?" Jan looked up, realizing that he was still in Frank's room and Frank was apparently in there, too. "Did you need something?"

Frank was standing next to his bed. He seemed to be almost swaying, looking like his knees were about to give out at any moment. He took a step, his left arm out to steady himself, and then tripped on the carpet.

"Frank!" Jan yelped, racing over to help him up onto his bed. Frank was light, sickeningly so. Jan shouldn't have been able to hold his weight that easily. Frank made a low, quiet sound, almost like a moan but not, and stayed where Jan had placed him. It frightened Jan that Frank didn't seem able to move, just lay where he was, shivering even though the room wasn't cold.

"Go away," Frank mumbled weakly. He tried to turn over, to turn away from Jan, but the movement seemed too much for him and he fell back on the bed. He closed his eyes when he couldn't summon the energy to look away from Jan who was kneeling by his side, peering into his face with obvious concern. "Leave me alone, Jan."

"No, no, I came to talk. I need to talk to you. We need to talk about this," Jan whispered, brushing back Frank's long hair, too worried to notice what he was doing. "Frank, talk to me. Please, talk to me."

Frank shook his head, the slight movement seeming to tire him even more.

"Frank, please. I want to know what's going on," Jan pleaded.

Frank looked at him sadly, his eyes filled with a deep sorrow. "Everyone wants you now. You've filled out, grown up. I can't compete with them."

"So you do this to yourself? You hurt yourself because you're too scared to try? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, Frank," Jan said, his voice quaking. He slipped his fingers between Frank's and held on to him tightly, squeezing Frank's hand between both of his own, tears filling his eyes as he tried to understand the insane thoughts Frank was thinking. 

The tears prickled and burned at the corners of his eyes but Jan couldn't wipe them away, not without letting go of Frank which he wasn't willing to do. Jan had always been too emotional in his own opinion, too quick to become upset and too quick to cry but now it felt right to let go because Frank was hurting so badly and Jan wanted to stop the pain more than he wanted anything else in his life.

"Why couldn't you ask me?" Jan asked. "Frank, you never even asked me how I felt."

"You would have said no," Frank said, looking away. He picked at the blanket under his fingers. Jan swallowed. He shouldn't be able to see the tendons when Frank moved his fingers. He'd never been able to before. "Or you would have told me that it wouldn't work."

"You don't know that."

"Frank, you have to tell me these things. I'm not psychic, I can't just read your mind and know what you're thinking. You have to tell me," Jan cried, wanting so badly to kiss Frank and tell him that he loved him but Juri had told him not to, had told him that telling Frank or kissing him would just make things worse.

"Frank, no, you're sick- we can't-" he gasped as Frank breathed against his hand. "Frank-"

Frank kissed Jan's cheek and Jan could only sit there frozen, not knowing what to do or say. He held Frank's gaze, his eyes wet and his body coursing with an excited energy. Frank wanted him. Frank was sick, Frank was hurt, and Jan didn't know what he was supposed to do, only what he wasn't.

The sudden knowledge that Frank wanted to touch him and had wanted to touch him for a very long time, longer than Jan had any recollection of, made Jan's throat close up. Jan wanted to kiss Frank, he wanted to bury his face in Frank's chest and cry, holding Frank until he was certain Frank wasn't going to leave them, _him_.

He couldn't, though. He couldn't kiss Frank, he couldn't do anything. He wasn't even supposed to be holding Frank's hand.

But the way Frank clung to him was addictive, the need and want in those beautiful azure eyes- because even at his most worn and thin, Frank was still the most beautiful man Jan knew by far- even more so. Jan couldn't stop himself from pressing his lips to Frank's, nipping softly on Frank's chapped bottom lip as Frank acquiesced, melting into Jan's kiss for the few seconds it lasted.

"I'm sorry," Jan said sadly. He brushed Frank's long hair back away from those gorgeous eyes. "I wasn't supposed to do that. You're too sick for me to be doing this to you."

Frank breathed out, looking at Jan with a heartbreaking longing that Jan didn't want to deny. But he couldn't allow it, either, not until Frank got help and he started healing. So Jan simply tugged Frank's icy hand back gently to warm it against his neck. Frank shuddered, letting out a soft sob as Jan looked at him through the tears.

"Did I do this?" Jan asked.

Frank shuddered, his fingers playing with Jan's blonde hair, twisting weakly into the short curls. Jan squeezed Frank's hand tighter, moving closer until his elbow rested on the other side of Frank's chest and they were so close that Jan could feel the heat building between their bodies. 

"No," Frank whispered hoarsely. "You didn't do anything. This is about me…and my own mistakes." 

Tears slipped down Jan's cheeks at Frank's words. Jan closed the distance between them, laying his head on Frank's chest, Frank bringing his free hand up to cradle Jan's skull. The months of not talking to Frank, of not knowing what was wrong or why Frank didn't want to be around him anymore, came pouring out of Jan there on Frank's bed. He had been keeping it inside out of fear and worry for what little still stood between them, not wanting to ask Frank why they couldn't hang out anymore or even talk without it being painfully awkward. Jan had missed his friend badly, the desire for Frank's body superseded by the ache for his friend back. And now to know it had all been a misunderstanding, a deep, confusing, awful misunderstanding that left Frank more broken than Jan could fix, broke the last of Jan's control.

He cried on Frank's shoulder until the few tears dried up and they were left lying together, neither willing to move away even when Frank's fingers became numb and he could no longer feel the parts of his body Jan was lying on. Frank dug his fingers deep into Jan's soft hair, feeling Jan's heart beating strongly, and listened to his quiet breathing, and simply enjoyed the togetherness and the honesty his little friend had shown him. Jan kept his emotions very close but he cared about Frank enough, so much, that he had let go and shown the singer a side of him that almost no one ever saw.

"I'm such a fucking pussy. God, I must look ridiculous…I just, um, missed you and all," Jan mumbled at long last, scrubbing his face in Frank's shirt. Frank sat up, pulling Jan to his side as his muscles screamed from staying in the same position for so long. He was still tired- sitting with Jan hadn't changed that- but for the first time in a long time, Frank felt relaxed.

"It's okay. I missed you, too," Frank murmured, stroking Jan's cheek, wiping the last of his tears away. Jan sniffled and smiled ruefully, adorably, so that all Frank could think about was how much he cared about Jan.

"So…are you gonna start talking to me again?" Jan asked.

Frank laughed, really laughed, and pulled Jan closer.


	5. Part 5

"Frank, up," Linke said, tugging at the singer's shirt sleeve.

"Noooo, is Saturday," Frank moaned, turning over and squirming away from Linke's fingers. "I don't have to get up before noon on Saturday."

"Yeah, well, we have to drop Juri off at the gym before you go to group," Linke explained. Frank lifted his head, his hair a disheveled mess and his eyes more than a bit bleary.

"Tell Juri to go jog around the block," Frank said but he was up already and knew Linke wasn't going to let him fall back asleep. He yawned and stretched, and caught the cap Linke tossed at him, scrunching it down to hide his unbrushed hair. There wasn't anyone at group that he cared about impressing.

Frank got up, brushed his teeth, and, after toeing on a pair of shoes and filling a travel mug with coffee, followed Linke out the front door. 

"Can Juri drive us? I don't want to spill my coffee in Jan's car," Frank asked plaintively just as Linke opened the driver side door. Linke scowled at him and Juri snickered as he took the keys from his lover. The morning was starting out well.

ØØØ

Linke watched as Jan and Frank danced around the living room. Jan's arms were around Frank's neck and he was bopping around to the music, having fun, grinding close to Frank in his own way as the singer stared at him entranced, his eyes drinking in Jan's every movement. The mix slowed to a calmer song and Jan moved closer, pressing into Frank brazenly. Frank smiled his real smile and laced his fingers between Jan's, holding the little DJ close, not that Jan was complaining as he tilted his chin up and caught Frank's mouth in a light, barely there kiss.

Linke leaned back into Juri's embrace, welcoming the calm strength of his friend as Juri wrapped his arms over Linke's chest and nipped at his ink unhurriedly. It was good to see Frank smiling again. It was good to know that Jan had waited and hadn't pushed Franky into a relationship before the specialist said Frank could, even though the whole band had watched as the two grew to want one more and more. Linke was proud of the little blonde in an older brother sort of way.

He was proud of Frank, too, and grateful, undeniably grateful that Frank hadn't left the band, that he'd been willing to work through this with them. No matter what the real truth was, Linke would have considered it his own failure if they had lost Frank. He had brought him into the band and it would've been he who had failed if Frank disappeared.

It felt so good not to have to worry anymore, to know that Frank was in capable hands and getting the help he needed, and to know that Jan was honestly trying his hardest to help and not being the selfish prick Linke had thought he might have become. Linke had misjudged Jan, he knew that now. Jan wouldn't hurt Frank on purpose. He cared too much about their singer to do that.

Everything wasn't quite perfect yet but it would be soon.


End file.
